


a foggy lullaby

by tosca1390



Category: Psy-Changeling - Nalini Singh
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tosca1390/pseuds/tosca1390
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naya meets her grandmother for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a foggy lullaby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts).



> For Jordan.
> 
> Prompt from [this](http://magisterequitum.livejournal.com/565339.html) ficathon. General spoilers through Shield of Winter.

*

“Is this ‘Take Your Child to Work Day’?” Ria asks with a wide smile. 

Sascha returns the smile, smoothing Naya’s dark baby-fine hair over her scalp. She lays tucked against Sascha’s shoulder, wrapped securely in the baby holder that rests snugly across Sascha’s back, sleeping peacefully. “Is that a thing?”

Ria leans back in her office chair. Early spring sunlight creeps through the high windows, giving the blue-skied day the appearance of warmth. Tucked into her trenchcoat and with a scarf wrapped around Naya’s neck, the day is cooler than it seems. Still, the sun is welcome; it has been a long, hard winter. “Well, I do it every day.”

“You do,” Sascha laughs, thinking of Ria and Emmett’s son Sean, in the child-care room Lucas insisted on outfitting and funding once his mate became pregnant. With the women of DarkRiver beginning to procreate at a rapid pace, as well as DarkRiver’s position and employment needs rising, he had thought it an appropriate addition. Sascha agreed, though Naya is still young enough to be kept at home mostly. Almost nine months, and growing strong. 

“Is this typical?” Sascha asks, swaying back and forth. 

Ria shrugs, her dark eyes bright, her cheeks flushed prettily. “Humans were encouraged to bring their children – specifically daughters – to work with them, to demonstrate that girls could have jobs too. It’s not a set thing, but it’s still done.”

“Psy never have those issues,” Sascha says dryly. “We were instructed to work from an early age. Productivity is value.”

She does not mean to sound bitter; she tries not to be sad concerning her own lacking upbringing. But her words are harsher than she imagines, and she blinks, holding Naya just a bit closer. 

“Maybe there’s more freedom now,” Ria says after a pause, tapping her pen on the surface of her desk. “Maybe there will be more choices for everyone.”

Maybe, Sascha thinks. The Honeycomb Protocol is a solution, but who knows how well all will take to it. Old trenches are hard to dig out of.

“You’re not on his schedule,” Ria says, a wicked little grin playing on her pleasant face. 

Laughing, Sascha rocks back on her heels. Her hair falls loose from its braid, catching along her shoulders. “It was an impulse decision. Is he busy?” she asks Ria, nodding at Lucas’s closed office door. 

Ria nods. “Meeting with your mother, actually. It was requested this morning.”

Sascha blinks, her hands stilling on her daughter’s warm form. For a moment, her mind is quiet. Nikita is in that office; Nikita, who has never seen her grandchild in the flesh. 

“Sascha?” Ria asks gently. 

“Yes,” Sascha, staring absently at the door. There is a gentle inquiry from the mating bond, Lucas curious and concerned. She does not quite know how to feel. Does she stay? Does she force this meeting? Would it even matter? She knows Nikita has motivations deeper than the surface, now knows what kind of efforts Nikita took to ensure Sascha’s physical safety when she was young. 

But this is business. It is all business. And Naya will never be labeled as such, not while Sascha breathes. 

“I’ll wait,” Sascha says at last, shifting to sit in one of the comfortable arm chairs in the entryway to Lucas’s office. “Are you going to lunch?”

Ria nods, worry clouding her gaze. “Emmett is meeting me and we’re taking Sean to the park. But I can wait – “

“I’ll be just fine, Ria. Thank you,” Sascha says, smiling at the other woman. 

Ria leaves with a quick kiss to Sascha’s cheek. The open entryway is quiet, but Sascha can feel the hum of employees throughout the building, their emotional signatures catching and brushing against her shields. She can sense her mother, that icy neutral signature, just a door away. Taking a settled breath, she shifts Naya’s sleeping weight, and waits. 

Ten minutes pass, and the office door opens. Lucas steps out first, his gaze catching Sascha’s as she rises. Dark green eyes widen, the cat lurking just under the surface. 

“Surprise,” Sascha says with a faint smile, her gaze going to Nikita. 

Her mother looks nonplussed, as usual, in her sleek black skirt suit, her jet-black hair pulled back in a severe bun. That unreadable gaze flickers over Sascha, taking in her daughter’s coat, the jeans, the thick-heeled boots, and the baby on her chest, with no discernable reaction. 

“Hello, Mother,” Sascha says quietly, walking over to her. There is steel in her spine, and the overwhelming reassurance of her mate’s affection and love in her heart. “You look well.”

Nikita blinks, her eyes settling on Naya. “Your child?”

“Yes,” Sascha says. Lucas shifts to stand at her side, his hand resting on the small of her back. “Nadiya.”

“You have a diminutive for her, do you not?” Nikita asks, voice cool. 

Sascha shifts, allows Naya’s sleeping face to come into Nikita’s view. “Naya.”

“Yes,” Nikita says, face impassive. 

“I didn’t know you were coming in,” Lucas says after a taut moment of silence, his voice low with warning. Mild annoyance buzzes at the back of her mind; his, to be exact. She arches a brow and shoots him a glance, pushing back at him mentally. 

“Dorian and Ashaya were coming in. I hitched a ride,” she says. 

“This meeting was impromptu,” Nikita comments flatly. “Concerning one of the renovations of the original housing project between Duncan Enterprises and DarkRiver.”

“I see,” Sascha murmurs, heart aching as she looks at her coolly removed mother. “Well, lucky us to have caught you.”

Lucas’s hand flexes on her back, a silent support. Sascha inhales and meets her mother’s gaze. “Would you like to hold your granddaughter, Mother?”

Nikita, still as if carved from marble, looks at Sascha for a long moment. Sascha doesn’t look away, her hands curved protectively around Naya’s long form. Lucas stiffens next to her, the protective instinct roaring through him emotionally, physically, and the mating bond. 

“I have not held a child since you were that age,” Nikita says at last. 

Sascha breathes out slowly, her hands going to the soft wrappings around Naya’s legs. “I doubt you’ve forgotten how,” she says, something of a challenge. Her mother does not like to fail. 

Slowly, with Lucas hovering like the helicopter father he has already turned into, Sascha disentangles Naya from her wrap and holds her out to her mother. Nikita automatically reaches for the baby, takes her in her arms and peers at her dispassionately; but there is a maternal instinct natural to her actions that Sascha reads as easily as her mate’s moods. The honey-gold skin, soft against Nikita’s pale visage; there are similarities in the nose, Sascha thinks, and the line of their brow. Regret and pleasure muddle within her, unable to divorce them from one another. So much lost through time, because of Silence. 

“She is quiet,” Nikita says at last, handing her back to Sascha. 

“She is,” Sascha says, and that ends the encounter. Nikita excuses herself with a cool nod, and leaves the office; her car waits outside, to take her to her next appointment. 

When she leaves, Sascha hands Naya to Lucas and turns her face away for a moment, the tears warm at the corners of her eyes. She listens as Lucas coos and murmurs to Naya, feels the strength and force of his love for them both as it reverberates through the bond. She presses a hand to her heart and breathes in and out steadily. 

“I would have told you when I got home,” Lucas says from behind her, his voice low with worry. “I wasn’t keeping the meeting from you.”

She looks at him and smiles, gaze clearing. “Ria said it was a request from the morning.”

“And you stayed,” he says. A statement. His eyes linger on her, the cat coloring his gaze. 

“I did,” she says, unapologetic. “And now we’re here for lunch. Is Dad going to feed us?”

A smile breaks his harshly handsome face, the scars dark at his jaw. He comes to her, opening his free arm, and she tucks herself into the long line of his body, her cheek pressed to his shoulder. Her arm goes around him as he holds their daughter. He smells like starch and cologne and pine needles, his grey suit crisp against her skin. Her nerves relax and she sighs softly. 

“Yeah. I think I can manage that, kitten,” he says into the crown of her hair. When she looks up at him, he kisses her and offers a choice of Chinese or pizza as they walk out of his quiet office. Her equilibrium returns; she smiles at him and Naya, lets all the love she has for them both color her every thought and word. 

It is enough, for now. 

*


End file.
